Renascitur Mortem
by TwistedIrish
Summary: What would happen if Harry had died the night of his parent's murder? Magic has other plans and brings him back. Harry's the chosen one and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. Now as long as Voldemort's Spirit Roams the Earth Harry literally can't stay dead and no one seems to remember when he does. Will anyone believe Harry?
1. Chapter 1

_**Sorry I know I should be writing my other stories or getting AngelBabe's old stories out there but this idea was nagging at me and I was curious! What do you all think?**_

_**Disclaimer! I don't own Harry Potter or any of the Characters! And the repeated Death idea came from South Park obviously :p **_

_**Renascitur Mortem**_

Summary: What would happen if Harry had died the night of his parent's murder? Magic has other plans and brings him back. Harry's the chosen one and either _**must**_ die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. Now as long as Voldemort's Spirit Roams the Earth Harry literally _**can't **_stay dead and no one seems to remember when he does. Will anyone believe Harry? How do you help someone cursed with the ability to die only to wake up again in bed the next morning? **P.S. I got this idea from South Park. Kenny's killed in nearly every episode…. YOU BASTARDS jk lol. **

**Warning!~ Repeated Character Deaths ! Explicit Content and Slash Lemons later don't like don't read!**

**Death**

The first time I remember it happening was when I was four years old. Dudley had tossed his ball too far, it had landed in the neighbors yard. The fat ass couldn't be bothered to get it, so he'd whined and cried and screamed until Aunt Petunia had 'suggested' I go get it for him. Uncle Vernon hadn't seen me behind his car. I remember the pain of begin crushed, the agony as my tiny ribs snapped beneath the weight of the car. I remember Aunt Petunia and Ms. Lindsby next door screaming in horror. Then I'm waking up, and my chest hurts and it's hard to breath at first. I think it's a dream.

The second time I remember dying is when I was five just a few months later. It was at little Peter Westbrooks house down the street and Mrs. Westbrooks had invited Dudley and I to his Birthday Pool Party. Dudley and Piers Polkiss had chased me down and tied a lawn chair to my ankle before pushing me, and the Chair into the deep end. They'd both laughed as I struggled to reach the surface again. I still remember the terrified horror on their faces when they realized I wasn't getting free, and the blurry sight of their backs as they ran away. The next morning I woke up in bed struggling to breath. I remember being scared and telling Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia what happened. The pain as Uncle Vernon bruised my backside for accusing his boy of murder and lying about dying. That was the first time I remember starving to death. Death by starvation is a long process, the pain as your stomach begins eating itself is almost as bad as being crushed, the only difference being that it lasts longer.

After that I never told anyone about my deaths, and when you live with people like the Dursley's Death finds you often. In the many years I lived with the Dursley's I've experience many different forms of Death several different times. I've been Drown, Stabbed, Crushed, Suffocated, Starved, Electrocuted, Decapitated, Shot, Run over, Bled out, and many many more. I've experienced death so many times it barely phases me anymore. The one thing that never changes is that it hurts… every time. By the age of Eleven I'd decided that I was a freak, and no one would ever truly care or understand.

Then my Hogwarts letter came.

I thought maybe I'd be able to find _**someone **_who could tell me what was happening to me. Maybe I wasn't alone? But unfortunately dying in the magical world and waking up the next morning was still considered abnormal. And like the Dursley's no one remembers the next morning. No one would _**ever **_remember the next morning…. Or so I thought.

**RMRMRMRMRMRMRMRMRMRMRMRMRMRMRMRMRMRMRMRMRMRMRMRMRMRM**

Well? What do you think? Should I continue or would it be a waste of time?


	2. Chapter 2

**_Sorry I know I should be writing my other stories or getting AngelBabe's old stories out there but this idea was nagging at me and I was curious! What do you all think?_**

**_Disclaimer! I don't own Harry Potter or any of the Characters! And the repeated Death idea came from South Park obviously :p _**

**_Renascitur Mortem_**

Summary: What would happen if Harry had died the night of his parent's murder? Magic has other plans and brings him back. Harry's the chosen one and either **_must_** die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. Now as long as Voldemort's Spirit Roams the Earth Harry literally **_can't _**stay dead and no one seems to remember when he does. Will anyone believe Harry? How do you help someone cursed with the ability to die only to wake up again in bed the next morning? **P.S. I got this idea from South Park. Kenny's killed in nearly every episode…. YOU BASTARDS jk lol. **

**Warning!~ Repeated Character Deaths ! Explicit Content and Slash Lemons later don't like don't read!**

**Alone**

Harry woke up hissing in pain, his skin was burning! What happened last night?

Oh

That's right

He died

_Again_

Harry groaned in frustration tossing aside his comforter. Damn fucking Longbottom and his stupid lack of Potions skills. The idiot blew up their potion and the scalding temperature and contents had quickly eaten him alive. Harry was sure he was nothing but skin fragments and bones by the time Snape got him to the Hospital wing… Damn he wished he could've seen the Bloody bastards face.

Stepping under the cool spray of the shower Harry groaned in relief at the soothing feeling. Bracing his hands against the wall he glanced down and studied his own body. Despite living under the Dursley's Neglectful and Abusive thumbs Harry had come back a healthy weight and size every time he died. After he went off to Hogwarts and began Quidditch he'd begun developing muscles, now at sixteen Harry would honestly say he's the most physically fit guy in his year. It nearly made him sick how healthy and _perfect_ his body was. Not an ounce of fat on him anywhere, no matter how hard he tried. Harry grunted before grabbing his shampoo and scrubbing it near violently through his hair. A soft wind chime noise echoed in from the dorm and Harry groaned in annoyance, his roommate's alarm just great.

Neville Longbottom yawned stretching as he walked into the bathroom. He blushed upon seeing Harry in the shower with the curtain wide open, "M-morning Harry."

Harry grunted and snatched the curtain closed, he wasn't very thrilled with the other boy at the moment. Neville seemed to hesitate before turning the faucet on at the sink. "You left Potions early yesterday."

Harry scoffed this always happened no one ever remembered when he died. "You probably had the right idea Harry, o-our potion exploded, P-professor Snape said it would've been near fatal if it had gotten on anyone."

Rolling his eyes Harry scrubbed his hair and tipped his head under the spray to rinse the Shampoo from it. Harry showered in silence for a while, shampooing his hair once more before adding conditioner, and switching the water to cold. He'd just rinsed out the conditioner when the other boy spoke again.

"I'm thinking of trying out for Quidditch?" Neville tried nervously, Harry froze in annoyance. If that tub of lard came near his pitch he'd kill him. Dying once during the game was enough for him, if the boy tried to join and McGonagall made him put him on the team he's sure he'd die every game and then he'd lose his Captain's position.

Switching off the water Harry yanked his towel around his waist before exiting his stall. Neville jumped dropping his toothbrush in the sink. "Aren't you afraid of heights?" he grunted at the boy. Neville colored fiddling with his fingers shyly.

"W-well, sure but-"

Harry snatched up his tooth brush and toothpaste doing his best to hurry from the room. Neville starring always bugged him more than others. Probably because the boy got him killed so often, it made him crazy. "Then don't join Quidditch. I highly doubt a violent game that takes place in mid air is going to help your fears any."

A small disappointed frown etched its way onto Neville's face, "I guess you're right."

"Join Herbology club or something."

Harry shook his head sending water flying in all directions, but he didn't care, he grabbed a second towel from the rack and scrubbed it through his hair as he reentered the room he shared with Neville. At the beginning of Fifth year McGonagall informed them that they'd be receiving different rooming accommodations of only two students to a room. Last year Seamus had been his roommate, this year he had Neville. On a good day he'd ignore the little bastard. On a bad day… he'd go down to the Forbidden Forest after Dinner with the gun he'd stolen from Dudley (He had no idea where the Lard ass got it but he refused to be shot on accident… again.) and blow his brains out. The next Morning he'd wake up way before Neville, shower, and he'd head down for an early breakfast. Most days he did this, he'd pray he wouldn't wake up the next morning, but he always did. Always, with what felt like a horrible hangover, pounding away at his patience.

Harry dressed quickly annoyed when he realized he'd forgotten to dry his upper body before pulling on his shirt, so the material clung to his skin. The sound of the shower reassured him that he wouldn't have to wait on Neville (Not that he would've today anyway), and he grabbed his school bag hurrying out of the room.

"Morning Harry," Ginny smiled as he passed her on the stairs, "You forget to dry your hair again?"

Reaching up curiously he groaned realizing she was right. Ginny giggled lightly before pulling out her wand to spell his hair dry, she reached out to tousle the soft locks gently, "There we are."

Harry forced a grin for her benefit, "Thanks Gin," he winked before hurrying off, once again relieved when Ginny confessed last year that she was over her crush, as she'd realized he was too much like one of her Brothers. She preferred to look at him as a cousin she didn't really grow up with but was close to now. "See you later Cuz." She'd called after him.

Harry ignored the staring girls as he tossed his bag down beside what everyone had dubbed 'his chair', and collapsing greatfully into its comfort.

Hermione looked up from her book for a moment, "You were in a hurry this morning," she noted eyeing his damp shirt pointedly. Harry grunted in response.

"Neville was annoying again."

Hermione bookmarked her page and set down her book, "Neville always annoys you, what happened this time."

Harry tilted his head back to look at her upside down over the armrest. He once again felt a painful tug in his gut at the concerned look on her face. He wanted so badly for her and Ron to remember, the panicked screams of his friends when he died in front of them haunted his dreams. He hated putting them in danger knowing that if they died they'd be gone for good. They wouldn't get to wake up perfectly safe in bed the next morning. He reached a hand over and tugged gently on one of her caramel colored curls.

"Nothing, I'm just in a bad mood."

Hermione raised a stern brow, "Anything to do with the detention you received for skipping out at the end of Potions?"

Harry frowned and released the curl, he hated getting in trouble for Dying, not that the teachers knew that was the case, but it still upset him when it happened.

"Harry, … we talked about this," Hermione frowned in disappointment, "I don't want you to regret your choices in school later in life, I'd hate for this to come back and Haunt you when you're looking for a job after graduation." Harry fought back a rude comment, knowing it wasn't her fault she didn't remember.

"I know."

Hermione ran soothing fingers through his hair, "Then why? Why did you sneak out Harry?"

"I wasn't feeling good. The fumes were making me lightheaded, lucky that, Neville said his potion exploded. Knowing my usual luck, I may have been covered in it and died."

Hermione tugged sharply at his hair, "That's a terrible thing to joke about Harry, I hate when you joke like that," Harry sighed at the hurt look in her eyes. He hated upsetting her like this, but it did happen, and if the only way to share it with her was by making sick twisted jokes out of his deaths then so be it.

"Morning," Ron grunted collapsing back on top of Harry.

Harry grunted and began wrestling with the red head to force him out of the chair. Rolling her eyes Hermione picked up her book and wacked Ron on the head, "Alright, let's head down to breakfast, before it's gone."

Ron grumbled as he massaged his sore head and pulled Harry to his feet. The three made their way down to breakfast, Harry and Ron horsing around as they went. Harry always felt better when he was with Ron and Hermione, they made him forget, made him feel like he was just like them. They made him feel normal.

They sat in their usual spots and Harry and Ron piled their plates high.

"I don't see how you can eat that much and still look the way you do Harry," Hermione murmured eyeing his plate in disbelief over her book.

Ron glanced up from his own meal, swallowing thickly, "Yeah mate, it's not fair! I eat all this and have to work my ass off to stay fit. All you have to do is go to Quidditch Practice. And you look…" Ron waved his fork at his friend needlessly.

Fork poised in mid air, Harry slowly set it back on his plate. Despite hearing it often it still got under his skin, his body was unnaturally in shape and he hated it, no one should look like he did, and no amount of glamour's could hide it. So instead Harry wore the baggiest clothing he could and the thickest ugliest frames he could to hide his face, he didn't want any attention, he didn't want anyone to get to close. Hermione and Ron were only as close as Harry allowed them, and to be honest they were closer then he was comfortable with. But there was nothing he could do about that now, he didn't have the strength of will to push them away.

The Great Hall doors burst open and a group of Slytherins wandered in, Harry's eyes paused on familiar platinum blonde hair. Draco Malfoy. The blonde tossed his perfectly straight blonde hair, arrogantly as he spoke to his fellow Slytherins. A particularly stupid Slytherin moved to pat him on the shoulder but in a grave miscalculation wound up patting the shorter boy on the head. Unfortunately for Malfoy, while everyone else was going through growth spurts and filling out, he stopped growing when he reached 5'4", and seeing as the only exercise he got was during Quidditch practice, the boy had a slim Build with barely any visible muscle on him. So it didn't come as any surprise that the Boy's Height and Build were sore subjects for the boy.

Harry hid an amused grin in his fist as he watched the boy stiffen and turn a fierce glare on the taller Slytherin. The taller boy seemed to shrink under the vicious look, and immediately faded into the crowd of Slytherins behind them. The second the other boy was out of sight Malfoy threw his nose in the air and stalked off. Hiding an amused chuckle in his fist he turned back to his breakfast.

The moment of peace was shattered when Hermione brought up his earlier grim mood. Unfortunately for him Ron was not so easily appeased.

"Come on mate, what the bloody hell is going on with you?" He threw down his fork at Dinner that evening, and leaned his elbows on the table to glare into Harry's eyes. He was finally fed up, "Every few days you become this egotistical, anti social asshole, and you never tell us why! Is something going on? For Merlin sake Mate, open the fuck up and let us help you!"

Harry raised a sardonic brow at the temperamental red head, "Oh, because my problems are oh so interesting to you? I'm just in a bad mood, it's not like the Bloody world is going to end."

"Harry, we're your friends, let us help you," Hermione pleaded, placing her book beside her plate.

Harry rolled his eyes, sighing in annoyance, "What's there to help, I'm in a bad mood, nothing caused it so leave it alone." His response only seemed to fuel Ron's already bubbling temper.

"Fuck you Harry! We're your friends, we have every right to try and help you out, quiet trying to play the Martyr and let us help for once!"

Harry's expression darkened as he wiped jam off his cheek, glaring down at the little bowl Ron had managed to blow up with his tantrum. He leveled his glare on the red head, silently telling him to sit down and shut up.

Ron took a seat, but refused to lower his defiant glare. He wanted answers, and Dammit Harry was going to give them to him. He was tired of the other boy's secrets, Harry was his best friend, so it really got under his skin when he thought about how uneven their friendship was. Harry knew so much about Hermione and him, while remaining more than an Arms length away from them, just out of reach. It wasn't fair dammit, and Ron was going to remedy the situation right NOW! "What's going on with you Harry… spit it out."

"We're your friends Harry, we're here for you," Hermione encouraged gently, reachingout to grasp his hand. Hurt overflowing in her eyes as he pulled it out of reach.

Harry glared down at his breakfast in disgust. Another meal ruined by these stupid questions, Harry wondered if it may be time to just let them go. Start drifting apart from them slowly. He raised his eyes to glare into the redheads. He had a feeling Ron wouldn't go without a fight, despite the temper and sometimes jealous arguments, Ron was nothing if not loyal. Hermione on the other hand… her emotions were so much easier to tread on and crush. She'd go if she thought he really wanted her too.

Unfortunately she was smart, and she'd know immediately what he was doing, and it'd be too much of a hassle to try and force her away. Harry sighed and threw down his Napkin on the table, the familiar weight of Dudley's stolen Beretta resting comfortingly against his hip in its holster under his robe. He could always take the easy way out today, he really wasn't in the mood for this Bullshit today, and besides what was a little headache anyway. He had a stash of numbing potions hidden in his bottom drawer anyway. He'd become addicted somewhere during his second or third year, but whatever, even when he overdosed he still came back.

"Fine, you want to know why I'm in a foul mood." He asked mockingly, glancing between the two coolly.

Ron and Hermione exchanged wary expressions at the sudden about face in the other boy's mood, "We just want to help mate." Ron mumbled a worried expression marring his usual goofy cheer.

"I was killed yesterday." He deadpanned, watching their expressions dully. He'd given up hoping they'd remember long ago.

Ron was the first to respond, and he reacted exactly how Harry knew he would.

"You're the world's biggest Prat in the world! We're trying to help you and you pull this load of Rubbish? You're an ass Mate."

"People don't just Die and come back to life Harry, beside I think we'd remember if our Best Friend Died yesterday," Hermione looked hurt as if Harry was letting her down again. And that was the final straw.

**DMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDM**

Draco Malfoy's day was getting off to a very boring start. Despite being sick and missing classes all the previous day, it seemed nothing of interest had happened. He'd thought he'd heard whispers of a potions accident and the death of a student the night before, but as per usual these rumors were false. It seemed people were often spreading rumors of Death and Despair whenever an accident happened only to have the Rumor disappear the very next day. Draco had learned to ignore these rumors especially the ones surrounding the Golden boy. I mean honestly, what were the odds of the Dark Lords greatest rival being eaten by an Acromantula, Falling off the moving staircase, being struck by lightning, or as per last night's rumor… melted by Longbottom's subpar potions abilities. No Draco stopped listening to these rumors ages ago. As they were always just that, rumors.

The sound of an argument breaking out at the Gryffindor table drew Draco's attention soon enough, brushing loose strands of hair out of his face Draco raised a surprised brow, it seemed Potter and his minions were arguing, this day could turn out to be quiet interesting.

"That's just it though dammit!" Potter roared throwing his napkin on the table in an angry fit, "You never FUCKING remember! It happens several bleeding times a month and no one EVER fucking remembers DAMMIT!"

Draco snickered gleefully, as Granger and the Weasel tried to calm the golden boy down. Granger shrieked, startling everyone in the hall, when the raven haired 'hero' pulled out a sleek metal… thing?

"Harry! Where on Earth did you get a GUN?! Be careful with that!"

'Gun?' isn't that supposed to be some kind of muggle candy? The tension and fear steadily climbing in the Muggleborns said otherwise. The Slytherins had all pulled their wands defensively.

Potter glared coldly, as Granger began crying openly and the Weasel began begging him to calm down. The Faculty was in a full blown panic shooting Defensive shields at the unprotected First and Second years. The Headmaster stood frozen staring at the Golden Boy with a Haunted look in his eye.

The look on Potter's face was a look Draco would never forget, it was so terrifying and tragic the c that Draco actually felt his eyes burn with tears… though that could've been his own raw fear.

"Try to remember this time. Anyone, _please _just try to _fucking _remember this time, God Dammit!" Potter roared, standing in the middle of the Hall before swiftly raising the Gun to his chin and _**BANG!**_

Draco's eyes widened in Horror, as the shrieks of terror and Denial faded into a white noise, as two lifeless jade orbs that stared at him accusingly. His stomach heaved at the mess the Muggle weapon had made of the taller boys face. Hysteria began to build in the blonde, and Draco was pretty sure that was him screaming now.

It was horrifyingly surreal. The Blood, Draco had never seen so much blood, he didn't even realize a Human being could produce that much blood. It just Burst from Potters Head like a fountain and now it was… Gushing out in massive amounts!

Draco's stomach rebelled, and like so many others around the Hall, spilled his stomach contents all over the floor behind him.

"I want all students in their common rooms immediately!" The Headmaster roared, Draco had a moment to wonder why the Headmaster looked and sounded so far away before his legs gave out and a sharp pain blossomed across the side of his head.

HPDMHPDMHPDMHPDM

Draco woke the next morning feeling light-headed and nauseous. Shifting uncomfortably in the strangely lumpy bed, he cracked an eye open and groaned. He was in the Hospital wing. Fan-fucking-tastic. What did Potter do this time?

The events of the night evening before, flashed quickly before his eyes, ending in lifeless jade green eyes and a long splatter of blood, brain matter and bone fragments. Draco's stomach rebelled, as he scrambled frantically to the edge of the bed, barely managing to grab the trash bin beside it before heaving pure stomach acid into it, having nothing left in his stomach.

"Oh, Mr. Malfoy" Madam Pomfrey tutted, sounding exasperated as she bustled over, waving her wand to empty the bin. She placed a glass of water and a small silver bottle on the stand beside him, "You Purebloods and your sensitive stomachs, this'll settle it, I recommend going to Lunch after this. Your fall left a nasty knot on you as well."

Draco felt rage pool in his chest, 'Is this Hag serious?!' Last night Potter blew his bloody brains out in the Great Hall and she was accusing him of having a weak stomach? The Malfoy Heir heaved more bile into the bin as his mind flashed back to the night before, tears stinging his eyes as the burning in his throat grew worse.

He couldn't believe it… Potter was… Dead?

The Hero had killed himself. Who would save them all now? Who would Draco tease, and mock, and torment, and- and- and HATE?... Did Draco hate Potter?

Draco's breathing was coming in near violent, shuddering sobs, though not a tear was shed. Was this shock?

"Mr. Malfoy!"

Draco knew the answer… No, no he didn't hate Potter. He didn't want this, he didn't want the other boy dead, like he thought he might. This was horrible he was scared, probably traumatized as well. Damn you Potter!

"Mr. Malfoy, Calm down Child!" Madam Pomfrey sounded very concerned now.

They were all going to die. With Potter gone, his Parents Lunatic 'Master' would swiftly take control, and no one would be safe. HE'D LEFT THEM ALL TO DIE! _DRACO HAD NO OTHER_ _OPTIONS NOW, HE'D HAVE TO FOLLOW IN HIS FATHER'S FOOTSTEPS. SEVERUS WOULD PROBABLY HAVE TO BETRAY THE OLD MAN TO SAVE HIS OWN SKIN. __**THEY WERE GOING TO DIE! **__**THEY WERE ALL GOING TO DIE!**_

The loud Bang of the Hospital Wing doors shocked him out of what he'd quickly realized was a panic attack. The raised voices of students arguing, registered vaguely in the back of his mind, as he tried to calm his breathing. Madam Pomfrey hushed them firmly, as she dabbed gently at the back of his neck with a cool rag. Had she been doing that this entire time? He wondered hazily as she dipped the rag in a basin she probably summoned, rang it out and dabbed at his neck again, hushing him gently.

"What's wrong with the Ferret?" the Weasel asked a mockingly amused edge to his tone, "Caught a glance at his reflection has he?"

Draco wanted to snap back at the obviously heartless barbarian, but the echoes of the Gun shot and the wet squelching of blood and Brain matter, had him retching up more bile into the bin.

"Really Ronald?" Granger sniffed sounding unimpressed, but perfectly fine otherwise. As if she _hadn't _just watched one of her friends off themselves in the Hall the other night.

Was Draco honestly the only one having a fit over this?! Potter blows his brains out all over the Great Hall floors and everyone's perfectly fine the next morning? What the Bloody Hell was WRONG with these people?! He'd thought they were Potter's friends?!

"Honestly Harry, if you hadn't been feeling well, you should've seen Madam Pomfrey last night! Instead of holding yourself up in your room all day!" Granger scolded primly, sounding a touch condescending.

Was this Bitch sick in the HEAD!? Potter was DEAD! Did something snap loose last night or was she always this crazy?

An annoyed grunt responded back, "So neither of you remember… Seriously… why am I NOT surprised." The frightingly familiar voice deadpanned.

Draco's eyes widened and his blood ran cold, for the second time in less than twenty-four hours. That can't be good for his already poor blood circulation. His eyes slowly rose from the bin.

There standing perfectly intact and alive, between Granger and the Weasel… was Harry _Bloody _**Potter. **His stomach rebelled at his poor choice of words and he felt the Blood quickly drain from his face as they approached. Again that can't be good.

Scrambling out of bed and ignoring Madam Pomfrey's shouts of protest and concern, and the fact that he was only wearing a pair of soft emerald green pajamas , as well as her demands for him to return to bed. The Trio seemed startled by his frantic attempt at getting away as Granger tried to help him when his foot got trapped in the sheets.

"Get off!" He shouted yanking at his foot violently a sick crack echoing in the room as he finally yanked it free. Madam Pomfrey nearly wailed in concern as Draco scrambled away and threw himself out into the Hall, narrowly missing Potter and the Weasels reaching hands.

It had to be a Prank. This was all some kind of sick joke or something?! Draco ignored the burning pain in his ankle as he bolted down the Hall. He couldn't wrap his mind around this… this was… this was too sick, too twisted especially for Saint Potter!

Draco grunted and cried out and a heavy weight slammed into his back from behind sending him crashing to the floor.

"Merlin you're fast for a little guy!" Potter grunted, sounding breathless.

Mind flying into a full on panic Draco bucked and twisted trying to free himself any way he could.

"Fuck!" Potter hissed , when Draco's elbow caught him in the chin, "Dammit Malfoy, CALM DOWN!"

"YOU SICK TWISTED FUCK!" Draco roared, forfeiting on escape and just doing anything he could to cause damage, including biting the wrist braced on the floor near his face.

"SHIT!" Potter yelped jumping off his back, "You bit me! You seriously just bit me right now!"

Draco scowled at him as he scrambled painfully to his knees, "My apologies should I've pretended to blow my brains out in the Great Hall instead?" He snarled back.

Potter froze turning to stare at him in disbelief. Draco scoffed attempting to stand only to have Potter catch his wrist and yank him back down.

"What the Fuck Potter?" Draco demanded rubbing his tender ankle gently, it was probably broken, if the pain when he touched it was anything to go on, a sprain at the very least.

Potter glared at him grimly, a cautious expression on his face, "What did you just say?"

"What the-" Draco began repeating as if Potter were stupid, only to have Potter over power him and force him onto his back, a foreboding expression on his face.

"About the Great Hall Malfoy!"

Draco flinched feeling a bit frightened of his Rival in that moment, "Your twisted prank with the Gun Potter! Are you Mental or something?"

"You remember that?" He demanded sounding incredulous, looking even the slightest bit annoyed, "How the bloody hell do _you_ of all people remember?!"

Draco rolled his eyes heavenward before scoff, "Believe me, I'd love to forget it. The sight of your mangled face is hardly a pleasant one. Why don't you go reminisce with the Weasel or Granger if you're so stuck on it. Because as I said… I'd really rather forget."

"Well that's lovely Malfoy, but there are a few problems," Potter deadpanned, looking even more annoyed, "It wasn't a prank, Ron and Hermione don't remember it, and finally you're the only one who seems to remember that I Died last night."

… Potter was mental…. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Potter huffed rolling his eyes, "Don't give me that look. You saw me Die Dammit. You watched me Blow my Fucking Face off!"

The Sound of the Gun and the flash of blood before his eyes made him flinch and his stomach turn. Draco looked away shivering as the cold stones against his back finally caught up with him, "I'm not sure _what _I saw."

"Sod Off you saw it! You remember," Potter urged shaking him by his pajamas, "It was real Malfoy! I Died!"

Draco whimpered trying to block out the images, "No, get off! You're Lying!"

"Mr. Potter!" Madam Pomfrey Shouted in protest, quickly dashing over to them with Granger and the Weasel at her heels.

Struggling harder Draco threw her a desperate look, "HELP ME!" he was pretty sure the traitorous tears that had escaped in his panic had worked in his favor.

"OFF," She howled batting Potter away and, embarrassingly enough, dragged Draco to his feet(… foot) clutching him tightly to her side. "You leave him alone Mr. Potter he's ill and I'll not have you upsetting him!"

Draco hesitantly glanced back at the other boy, as Madam Pomfrey marched him back to the Hospital Wing, being mindful of his ankle, he regretted it immediately. Potter was staring at him solemnly, ignoring Granger and Weasel's concerned questions, his eyes like emerald flames piercing into him.

'Not Over' Potter mouthed at him. Much to his friends confusion as they glanced between them.

Draco paled whimpering pitifully. Something was seriously off about Potter. Did he seriously die last night? That was impossible right? No, because he'd still be dead, wouldn't he? This had to all be some kind of sick joke! ... But if it wasn't … What happened to Potter? … And why was Draco the only one who could remember his death?

_**HPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMH**__**PDM**_

**I'm very sorry it took so long. Unfortunately My family has faced another lose. for those of you who've read 'The Lie in your Truth' you know what I mean. In the early hours of January 26th my Grandfather passed after being given less then a week to live. The diagnoses as well as his passing were very sudden. For the last six or so years he'd lived with me and my Parents. After I'd moved out I'd visit him regularly if only just to sit and talk with him. It's been very hard losing another loved one, especially so soon after our tragic loss. But I'm trying. I'm going to do my best to begin updating again. But please be patient with me.**

**Lots of love,**

**TwistedIrish**


	3. Chapter 3

**_Sorry I know I should be writing my other stories or getting AngelBabe's old stories out there but this idea was nagging at me and I was curious! What do you all think?_**

**_Disclaimer! I don't own Harry Potter or any of the Characters! And the repeated Death idea came from South Park obviously :p _**

**_Renascitur Mortem_**

Summary: What would happen if Harry had died the night of his parent's murder? Magic has other plans and brings him back. Harry's the chosen one and either **_must_** die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. Now as long as Voldemort's Spirit Roams the Earth Harry literally **_can't _**stay dead and no one seems to remember when he does. Will anyone believe Harry? How do you help someone cursed with the ability to die only to wake up again in bed the next morning? **P.S. I got this idea from South Park. Kenny's killed in nearly every episode…. YOU BASTARDS jk lol. **

**Warning!~ Repeated Character Deaths ! Explicit Content and Slash Lemons later don't like don't read!**

**Acceptance**

The Heat

A Hard body

Friction

A low groan… Draco fought back a cry as his lovers hips rocked against his. He needed… he yearned. Panting wildly he struggled to breathe while moving with the others rhythm. Searing lips attached to his neck while his hips pivoted into Draco's without abandon.

"Harder," Draco pleaded desperately, he needed this, with all the stress lately he needed release. He'd been avoiding Potter all week and needed some sort of release. He NEEDED this.

His lover took on a more punishing rhythm nearly drilling him into the mattress causing Draco to cry out, "You saw me, you saw it."

Draco fought his clouded mind, attempting to dissect what the other man was hissing in his ear, 'Saw what? What was he saying?' blinking hazily he tried to look at his face.

The rocking stopped as the other mans hands suddenly clamped down on Draco's throat. Suddenly he could see it. Potter leaning over him fully dressed with his hands crushing Draco's windpipe. Draco choked, clawing at his hands.

"You saw me DIE! Didn't You! Why didn't you stop me?" He shook Draco by his throat violently, "I DIED! YOU SAW IT!"

"NO!" Draco somehow denied, struggling violently in Potters hold.

"HELP ME!" Potter shouted as a violent Bang rang out and Potters head seemed to explode.

Draco sprang up in bed screaming and flailing like a manic. Panicking even more when he felt hands grabbing him.

"DRACO!"

Blinking rapidly his roommates Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, and Gregory Goyle came into view. Draco fought desperately to catch his breath.

"Are you okay?" Blaise asked hesitantly glancing back, before looking at Draco searchingly.

Draco frowned wondering what the look meant, before spotting Vincent Crabbe on the ground holding his nose and watching Draco warily.

Guilt, it was all Draco could feel in that moment. "Did I hit you?"

"You struck me in the nose, but I'll live… Are you okay?" Vince asked quietly. The boy was actually incredibly shy, people often believed him to daft to speak, which suited the boy fine as he was never called on in class.

Draco shrugged, pulling his knees to his chest, "Just a night terror."

"Again?" Theo asked in concern, glancing over at Greg in concern. Draco was fairly certain the two were dating secretly, but figured they'd tell them when they were ready. Theo had had a hard life, his father being an alcoholic and his mothers many 'lovers'. Someone like Greg, who felt an almost Gryffindor like need to Protect people he cared about, was perfect for the unnaturally soft hearted and broken Slytherin.

Draco smiled self-deprecatingly, "I'll be okay Theo, don't worry, and go back to bed. All of you," He waved a hand at them airily. Only in the safety of their room would they act so close, outside of this room, they were purebloods… Slytherins. This room was where they could be weak, outside it they'd be eaten alive.

Blaise gave him a shrewd look before tapping his bed post lightly, "No more Silencing spells on your bed okay, lucky Greg saw you thrashing on his way to the loo. I'll tell Severus if you put them up again, if you need dreamless Sleep potions he'll give them to you."

"I'm fine, and dreamless sleep potions are addictive." Draco groused childishly, picking at a loose string on his bed sheets. He doubted they would help anyway, he saw it when he was awake too.

Blaise shot him a narrow look, "Then maybe you'd like to talk to someone about why you're having nightmares so suddenly?"

Theo, Greg, and Vince looked at him imploringly, as if silently begging him to talk to them.

Draco hesitated before hugging his knees and shaking his head softly, while avoiding Blaise's sharp gaze. He heard Blaise sigh and heard the rustle of clothes that told him he was running his fingers through his hair again. He'd been doing it a lot lately.

"Talk to me mate, what happened? This isn't healthy," Blaise near pleaded, he sounded so lost, he had never heard his friend beg like this before. Theo, Greg, and Vince said nothing, but the silence itself was telling. They were worried. Draco almost wanted to tell them, but he knew he couldn't, he'd sound crazy!

After doing a little snooping around he'd figured out that Potter was telling the truth. If Potter HAD pretended to blown his brains out in the Great Hall, someone was bound to be talking about it. But no one said a word, and the few random students he'd asked had looked at him like he was mad before he'd cast a simple Obliviate to erase the conversation. He couldn't have them running around talking about him asking them that question now could he?

So Potter was obviously telling the truth… he died, and no one other than himself seemed to remember. But why-

"Dammit Draco," Blaise interrupted his thoughts, a pained scowl on his face, "Why do you keep shutting down? Talk to us, please!"

"I can't!" pain laced his denial as he shook his head, he stared up at his Italian friend with tortured eyes, "I can't, please Blaise, not tonight. I'll talk to Uncle Severus tomorrow, I promise I will."

Blaise hesitated, knowing subconsciously that he wouldn't. Draco had made this promise before, a promise he never kept, he just wanted to bury it and pretend it never happened. Blaise sighed heavily in defeat, gesturing helplessly at his friend, "Tomorrow then."

Draco listened silently as his friends shuffled back to their beds, holding back tears of frustration and fear. He kept seeing it. Maybe not the same as it was in the Great Hall, but every night now he'd wake up after watching Potter die. Always in that same gruesome manner with his head blown to bits, he couldn't get it out of his head. Draco choked on his pitiful sobs, it wasn't fair, and why was he cursed with the memory of Potter's weakness while everyone else got to forget. Not only did he have to watch Potter Die every night, but he had to watch the boy do it to himself! How tortured did you have to be to end your own life! Even if Draco knew he'd wake up the next day… he didn't think he'd be so bold as to take his own life. It was madness.

When he'd heard the last of his roommates breathing even out, Draco eased his body out from under his heavy duvet and eased his warm feet onto the contrarily cold stone ground. Draco flinched as the ground seemed to suck the warmth from his feet like a dementor. He quickly shook it off swiping his wand from under his bed. Despite his best efforts of keeping his wand close at hand under his pillow it always somehow wound up under his bed. Draco quickly tiptoed across the room silencing the door so it wouldn't squeak as he eased it open and slipped out.

xXxXxXx

Draco wandered aimlessly through the hallways no specific destination in mind. He somehow wound up on the fourth floor in his efforts to avoid teachers, and Filch and his Cat. He slowed near a window leaning against the ledge to look out at the night. Black spread like a sheet over the sky, it almost looked as if someone tossed a blanket over the world, with holes poked in it letting only the bare minimum of light to leak threw. It was a moonless night, it was beautiful.

Draco stiffened at the soft sound of a shoe scuffing the ground. Whipping around he expected to see a teacher or maybe even Filch. No one. A long empty Hall way stretched on before him. Glancing around suspiciously, Draco decided he'd wandered enough and that it was time to head back to his Dorm. Walking slowly at first Draco kept his ears sharp listening for the steps he knew would come. Sure enough the second he began walking he heard the steps behind him. Clenching his wand tightly in his hand Draco shot off like a Fire bolt and dashed threw the Halls, the pursuing steps ringing loudly in his ears. Draco had barely made it into the Dungeons when his pursuer tackled him into an abandoned Classroom.

Draco shouted in surprise watching fearfully as the doorknob glowed with the use of a locking charm. He glanced around franticly for his assailant only to blink at the seemingly empty room. Invisible hands caught his sleep shirt and dragged him to his feet, only to shove him violently into a wall. Suddenly the object of his recent nightmares was in his face, a cloak being thrown to the ground. Draco couldn't be blamed for his instinctual reaction. Potter had startled him after all.

"You BASTARD! COWARD!" Draco roared smacking at him violently, "CRAZY, NO GOOD, _STUPID,_ BASTARD!"

Potter seemed shocked and did his best to fend off Draco's violently flailing hands. Draco knew he'd caught him in the face a good few times and felt a small surge of pride at the thought.

"Malfoy what the hell?!" Potter grunted scrambling to catch the rogue weapons. He finally caught the smaller boy's wrists and gave him an unimpressed look of disbelief.

Draco merely scowled defiantly at the taller boy, he hoped he got in a few shots, the bastard would deserve it for traumatizing him. He could admit it, if only to himself. The thought of Potter killing himself was not a pleasant one. Hero's weren't supposed to be that weak.

Potter frowned seeming to look intently at his face glancing between his eyes, "Have you been sleeping at all?"

"Seriously?" Draco demanded, glaring at the utter imbecile for asking such a stupid question, "Did you honestly just ask me that?"

Potter frowned seeming a bit annoyed at Draco's tone. He damn well hoped he annoyed the raven, it'd serve the bastard right!

"My classmate blows his bloody brains out in the middle of supper and you're asking me if I'm alright?" Draco retorted callously, staring down the raven as if daring him to tell him otherwise.

Potter faltered, turning awkward suddenly, "But I'm alive?" He offered lamely, as if that changed anything.

"You still died Potter," Draco countered ruthlessly, refusing to be the one to break eye contact, he wanted to watch the idiot squirm, "I still watched your brains spill across the floor. Do you have any idea what that does to a person?"

Potter blinked dumbly slowly releasing Draco's wrists as he took a step back, "You hate me." It wasn't a question.

"I never said I wanted you dead Potter… I may not like you. But I never thought you'd be callous enough to do something like that." Draco felt unwanted emotion choke his words and cleared his throat awkwardly.

Potter shook his head slowly never looking away from him, "No one remembers."

"I remember," Draco corrected firmly, finally looking away with his next admission, "I remember every night."

Potter shifted awkwardly, his right hand jumping to his hair to ruffle it, "I'm sorry."

"No you're not," Draco accused eyes piercing into Potters once again, "Because you're not sorry you did it."

Potter couldn't seem to deny that accusation, so Draco took his leave. Potter got what he wanted, he got Draco to admit he'd seen it… hopefully now he'd leave him be with his night terrors. Though Draco doubted he'd free of them. He wanted sleep, he wanted the bliss of a forgotten dream. He'd taken his peaceful night rest for granted. Maybe he would talk to Severus. Maybe he could find a way to convince him he wasn't crazy. Maybe he could convince him that he really did see Potter's death every time he closed his eyes.

xXxXxXx

It'd been a week since they spoke, two weeks since he watched Potter die, not a word.

Draco rubbed his hands together, trying to force more blood to flow through them, he was always cold in potions class. The dungeons were always cold and wet, he hated them. Glancing up he saw Potter glancing at him discreetly, grimacing he looked away, using his breath to warm his hands. Despite not speaking Draco had often caught Potter watching him, if only from a far. He didn't know how he felt about that.

They were working in pairs and had been sure to get their early and beg his Godfather to pair Potter with anyone else but him. In his usual grouchy manner, the man agreed and pair Potter with Longbottom instead. Potter had looked horrified and shot Draco a strangely apologetic look.

They'd been working in silence for all of twenty minutes when something went terribly wrong. Longbottom, too busy dithering over Potter for some reason, added Valerian Root instead of Burdock Root. Draco felt as if time itself slowed down. Neville jumped back as the Potion hissed violently, Potter unfortunately wasn't as lucky, and wound up with a face and mouthful of the violently orange potion.

"Professor Snape!" Draco shouted, panic rushing through him wildly. Valerian root reacted violently with many of the main ingredients in this potion, and Draco knew instinctively that they needed to act quickly or Potter would die… again.

His Godfather swept quickly across the room as Potter choked trying to breathe as his lungs quickly collapsed, "MOVE! NOW! LONGBOTTOM YOU FOOL!"

Longbottom was sobbing hysterically against the wall, watching Potter suffocate on the Potions room floor.

"Valerian Root! He used Valerian Root!" Draco shouted frantically, cradling the slowly dying saviors in his lap.

Granger and Weasley were on either side of him babbling on about 'holding on' and 'you're going to be ok'. They were crowding him, Draco sent granger a glare, "Professor Snape needs ROOM!"

Granger paled, scrambling to her feet and dragging the red head back a few steps as the Potions master came barreling back over.

But it was too late…

Potter's firm grasp on his wrist had slackened and his eyes were slowly dimming. Draco quickly felt for a pulse as Snape prepared to force feed the antidote to the boy.

"Professor," Draco murmured through numb lips as his Godfather forced it down the boy's throat.

The Dark man stared at Potter's face as if expecting the boy to move. But he wouldn't, he was gone, "He's dead."

Granger and Longbottom wailed in denial, Weasley numbly allowed the girl to slip from his grasp to the floor. The Gryffindors shouted their denial of his admission, while the Slytherins stared in silent disbelief. His Godfather twitched before shaking his head.

He pounded his fist roughly on Potter's chest, "Get up!"

"Severus?" Draco questioned, staring at his Godfather in surprise, the numb feeling of watching Potter die again still clouding his mind.

Severus shook his head again more violently, "He's not dead, just stubborn. He's a stubborn Bastard, like his Father. There's always a Potter about to make my like difficult. Wake up Boy, wake up!" Severus shook Potter's lifeless body violently.

Draco twisted pulling Potter away from his obviously distressed Godfather's hands, "Severus, stop it! Call the Headmaster… for Merlin sake someone get Dumbledore!"

Thomas and Vince dashed quickly from the room letting the door swing open freely behind them, not that the heavy wooden door allowed for much swinging.

Draco didn't realize he was rocking, he didn't realize he had such a powerful grip on Potter's body either. Not until Blaise was trying to pull him away.

"Draco?" Blaise called loudly, obviously not for the first time. Blaise, Theo, Granger, and even Weasley were looking at him in concern, and suspicion on Weasley's part. The suspicion on Weasley's face he was use to, but concern? He'd never thought the red head would ever be worried about him.

Granger gave a trembling smile as she hesitantly placed her hand on his, which was wrapped around Potters chest, "You can let go now Malfoy?"

Draco glanced down at Potter's messy hair, and his hands he could just see over the top of Potter's head. With slow trembling hands he released the currently dead boy in his arms.

Was this really happening? Would Potter be back tomorrow? What if the last time really was a prank? Was he really dead this time? Would everyone else forget tomorrow? If Potter really did die, and no one ever remembered, why was he only remembering now? Had he been there at any of Potter's other supposed deaths? If he was, why only now?

"Malfoy," Granger was touching him, normally he'd be throwing a fit, but right now…

Granger stiffened in surprise as Draco broke down, no one would remember tomorrow anyway if Potter was telling the truth. So he cried. He broke down and began sobbing into the girls shoulder. That seemed to be it for the girl as she began shaking and crying as well hugging him back just as tightly.

**So my laptop got Stolen. I lost all my stories and now I have to take the time to rewrite the Chapters that I had finished. this is part of one I'd had in my email. I read through it Edited the parts I'd changed. But I wanted to put SOMETHING out there. Please don't hate me! :( I'll be moving soon to a better neighborhood so hopefully something like this won't happen again. anyway I hope you enjoy this Chapter! Leave a review~**


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